<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I Smell Snow by pine67</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753370">I Smell Snow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pine67/pseuds/pine67'>pine67</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Life, POV Patrick Brewer, Post-Canon, Winter Season</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:01:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pine67/pseuds/pine67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The minute his mind begins the transition from sleep to consciousness, Patrick’s eyes burst open with an excitement like no other. Today’s the day. It’s going to snow today. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Smell Snow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020">SCFrozenOver2020</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>Patrick loves snow-- loves it (think Lorelai Gilmore)-- and David does NOT. Patrick tries to convince David of all the ways snow is wonderful and magical.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The minute his mind begins the transition from sleep to consciousness, Patrick’s eyes burst open with an excitement like no other. Today’s the day. It’s going to snow today. </p><p>Because he faces the wall, he can see a soft light framing the window where the curtain falls just an inch away from the sill. He smiles contentedly, reassured it’s still early enough that he won’t be missing the first signs of snowfall. He wants to get out of bed to prepare, but there’s a heavy weight keeping him down. </p><p>David’s breath is soft and rhythmic against his neck. He considers for a split second rolling around and burying himself deeper into his husband’s warmth. It would be nice. They could sleep in. Snooze together and enjoy those surface level half asleep half awake dreams that tend to be oh-so delicious. </p><p>But no. He’s a man on a mission and he must get started. </p><p>Patrick slowly lifts David’s arm from around his waist and places it between them, listening carefully for any changes in his breathing. Now, the real issue here is their legs. They’re so intertwined with each other, Patrick isn’t sure how he can detangle them without waking him up. </p><p>He has to be strategic with this. </p><p>He ever so gently rolls onto his back, as one might do in their sleep. The movement frees one of his legs but he still needs the other. Maybe if he can get David’s knee up, he can pull his from in between, and with a little bit of flexibility he can Jenga his way out…</p><p>This causes David to move and reach out for something to hug. Patrick panics and shoves his half of their duvet into David’s arms. </p><p>He waits. </p><p>He’s free now but if he steps out of the bed before David is back in a deep slumber, the dip in the bed would surely wake him. Patrick sings in his head an entire lullaby song to ensure two minutes pass before he’s over the whole waiting thing and steps off the bed.</p><p>“Noooo…”</p><p>Damn it. </p><p>“Shh,” Patrick whispers, turning back and petting David’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep, baby.” </p><p>David’s eyes don’t open but he does frown. “G’back ‘ere.”</p><p>“I’m just- I’m already awake,” Patrick continues in his soft voice, hoping against all odds that David chooses to go back to sleep. David absolutely<em> hates </em>waking up earlier than he needs to. Especially on a- </p><p>“It’s the crack of dawn on a Sunday, for crying out loud...”</p><p>Patrick doesn’t like how David is more and more coherent as the seconds tick by, so he gets back in bed. Sitting on top of the covers. </p><p>He doesn’t say anything after that, nothing about waking up or going to sleep. Not about the promise of snow later that day. He just kisses David’s forehead and pets his back and the minute David’s breathing is thick and heavy, Patrick sneaks off successfully. </p>
<hr/><p>After a quick and quiet breakfast, he’s in the garage and ready to prep for the day. The snow hasn’t started falling yet, but he knows once it does he’ll need his equipment on hand. As well as an empty garage to pull up his car. Why deal with a few inches of snow on your vehicle when you can park it in your perfectly available and spacious garage?</p><p>Patrick makes quick work of transporting his gardening tools to the basement. Lawn mower, trimmer and a bunch of rakes that come in various shapes and sizes. Won’t be needing those for several months to come. </p><p>He deals with some dead plants that he kept meaning to depot all summer because he wanted to repurpose the soil. Procrastination is a pain in the ass because now he has no use for the soil and he’s forced to toss it all out. He stacks up all the plant pots and trays, so they take up much less space, and moves onto the woodworking corner.</p><p>By the time the garage is cleared enough for a car to fit, Patrick is panting and sweating through his layers. He takes the top one off, an old sweater that was too tight to be comfortable but too pristine to toss out. </p><p>“Whatcha doing?”</p><p>Patrick spins and grins. “David! Good morning!”</p><p>“Yea, no, don’t think you’re getting away with that.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Patrick looks away and fidgets with his tools. </p><p>“It’s our only day off together!”</p><p>Patrick puts on his best puppy dog eyes. “I know, and we had a lovely night of sleep. I woke up very happy in your arms.”</p><p>“Okay, well, it’s cold out here and I don’t wanna argue for much longer. When are you coming inside?” David tugs at his fluffy robe tighter and tighter until it encapsulates all of his body.</p><p>“Soon, just gotta pull the car inside and salt the driveway.”</p><p>One of David’s eyebrows does a thing. Patrick doesn’t have a name for that movement yet, but moves quickly to explain. </p><p>“It’s going to snow today! The first real snowfall of the season.” </p><p>“And you think it’s cold enough that it’s going to, like, require salt and all that stuff,” He waves vaguely at the pile of winter gear Patrick has by the door. </p><p>“Of course, David, there will be a low of negative ten. And it’ll snow for at least four hours. I did the math, this is it. Today’s the day. Snow is here to stay.”</p><p>“I have never, ever in my entire life, met someone who likes to shovel their driveway as much as you do.” </p><p>Patrick shrugs. He likes shovelling. It’s satisfying. </p><p>He spins around, eyeing the distance. It’s almost noon now but no one would be able to tell. The sky is still gloomy and the sun is well hidden behind the clouds. </p><p>David sighs, “Fine, I’ll be going through my morning routine now. Find me when you love me more than snow.” </p><p>“Wait, David, hold on.”</p><p>“What, what is it?”</p><p>“Shh, listen. Come closer so you can hear.”</p><p>“Socked feet-” </p><p>Patrick already expects the rebuttal so he grabs David’s arm and pulls him forward until they’re standing where the garage ends and the driveway begins. “It’s about to start.”</p><p>David isn’t being insensitive or bratty on purpose, he just truly doesn’t see what Patrick sees. Or hear what Patrick hears. Good thing Patrick is patient. “How do you know?”</p><p>“I can hear it,” He points to the distance. “You see how the trees are moving against the wind? Listen for the sounds. It’s like a pitter patter.”</p><p>To his credit, David listens. He wraps an arm around Patrick’s shoulders and rests their heads together. </p><p>Sure enough, as they stand together in their home, they witness the first few snowflakes flow down gracefully and land on the pavement. Of course, they melt immediately. But Patrick is mesmerized nonetheless. </p><p>“Wow this is… that’s a skill,” David says, impressed. “That I do not have. Because I didn’t hear anything. But I see the proof now. It’s officially winter.”</p><p>“Yeah, it is,” Patrick’s smile is goofy and he’s happy and he wouldn’t change anything for the world. </p><p>“Okay so, that skincare routine really isn’t going to apply itself.”</p><p>“Go, go!” Patrick shoos David and they get on with their day. </p>
<hr/><p>Many hours later, the couple is snuggled up on their loveseat watching the credits roll on a new Netflix movie called <em> Holidate. </em>Patrick continues munching on popcorn as he watches David gesture dramatically.</p><p>“I’m just saying, people don’t just stand up in front of a bunch of strangers and confess their undying love to someone. It’s not a real life thing to do.” </p><p>“Sure, but don’t you think if anyone were to pull it off, it would be Emma Roberts?” </p><p>“I mean, yes, she does play very relatable characters. But. I still don’t buy it.” </p><p>“Well, I loved it.” </p><p>“That’s because you fall for literally any actor with an accent. It’s one of your character traits,” Patrick pokes him in the belly and David scurries away. </p><p>Patrick dusts off his hands and gets up enthusiastically. </p><p>David makes a noise, “Wait, where are you going? We still have time before dinner,” He reaches out with grabby hands, trying to pull Patrick back down.</p><p>“But look, it stopped snowing,” Patrick points to the nearest window.</p><p>David squints and scowls.</p><p>“Okay, what’s the deal with you and snow? At least we’re not driving to work through the storm. We get to enjoy it from the comfort of our own home.” </p><p>David shrugs. “I guess. I just don’t get what there is to enjoy.” </p><p>Patrick takes his husband's hands into his own and pulls him up into a standing position. He walks them over to the window and huddles close. “The few hours after a snowfall are so magical. It’s like the whole world changes colour. Everything is brighter, softer.” </p><p>“This whole scene,” David gestures vaguely at their backyard, “would never exist back in New York. Snowfall there always meant slush, puddles, and subway delays.” </p><p>“That does sound unfortunate,” Patrick says.</p><p>“It’s gross, is what it is.” </p><p>“Well here, we don’t have any of those inconveniences. We have grass and fields and lamp posts that shine.”</p><p>David kisses Patrick’s forehead. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.” </p><p>“Come out with me. While I shovel.” </p><p><em> “Hard </em> pass.” </p><p>“Oh, come on. Today’s snow is packing snow. We can make a snowman!”</p><p>“You can’t know that already. You haven’t been outside yet.” </p><p>“I can, I can smell it. In the air.” </p><p>David lets go of him, somehow looking offended. “You <em> cannot. </em> Snow is making you crazy.” </p><p>“I swear to god, David, I can smell it. The air is fresh. It’s crisp. There’s hardly any moisture.” </p><p>“I don’t care if you’re secretly a superhero with the power of shooting snowflakes out of your fingertips. I’m not going out there.”</p><p>“Worth a shot,” Patrick sighs. “I’ll be gone for twenty minutes max. And then I’ll be back to drink some hot chocolate with you,” He places a chaste kiss on David’s lips then makes his way to the front door.</p><p>“Um,” David frowns. “I don’t remember promising any hot chocolate.” </p><p>“You make it so much better than I do.” </p><p>“That’s when I’m feeling inspired. I can’t access that part of my brain on demand.” </p><p>Patrick just laughs and ignores his melodrama as he bundles up. Sweater, scarf, jacket. Boots. The whole process is time consuming and not at all attractive. “Are you just going to watch me the entire time?” </p><p>“I like to know exactly what this whole package consists of, so I can most efficiently unwrap it later.” </p><p>Patrick slips on his hat and gloves. “Can I get that in writing? You might change your mind when you find out I sweat through most of the layers.” </p><p>David’s face scrunches up, “Hot.” </p><p>They laugh at each other and then Patrick is out the door. </p>
<hr/><p>Shovelling is extremely therapeutic for Patrick. The driveway is much, much longer than it is wide, so he cuts it in half and goes up and down in long strokes with his widest shovel. It’s no longer actively snowing, but the snow is so fluffy it starts flying in the air if he moves too fast. He has to perfect his technique. </p><p>Slide, swish, swoop. Toss.</p><p>Even the small mountain he creates on the lawn is perfectly sculpted. He loses himself in the satisfying symmetry of it all. </p><p>He’s only got the last quarter to go when he pauses to take off his hat and gloves. The adrenaline going through him is addicting. He loves this feeling. It’s even more gratifying than a session at the gym. </p><p>He turns around to place them on a hard surface, only to find David dressed in a jacket and knee high rain boots. Not exactly winter attire, but he’s got the right spirit. He approaches slowly. </p><p>“Hi, what are you doing out here?” </p><p>“Thought I’d come to see what the fuss was all about,” He tilts his head back and rolls his hand non-committedly. He does that when he tries to show something isn’t as big of a deal as it actually is. </p><p>“Well, the fuss is this,” Patrick says. “Look how satisfying that is? The driveway is spotless. And look how much snow I collected,” He motions to the mountain of snow to the side. </p><p>“Wow, impressive.” </p><p>Patrick walks over and picks up some snow in his bare hands.</p><p>“Um- careful! Is it not cold?!” </p><p>“It’s fine. I’m pumped on so much energy my hands are heaters at this point,” Patrick packs the snow together in a little ball. “See what I meant by it being packing snow? You can create a ball super easily. And if you roll it on the ground it gets bigger and bigger.” </p><p>“I see…” David says. He grabs Patrick’s abandoned gloves and wears them. “And you can just... keep adding to it?” He takes the ball from Patrick and plays with it. </p><p>“Exactly,” To say Patrick is ecstatic right now would be an understatement. He shakes his head to make sure he’s not making this up. David is here. Outside. Unironically asking him questions about the snow. “I love you, David.” </p><p>“Okay good, just remember that in a few minutes.”</p><p>“Wha-” </p><p>David lifts his arm ungracefully and tosses a decently sized snowball directly at Patrick’s chest. It crumbles with the force and falls to the ground. </p><p>Patrick’s not sure how to react. This is David in front of him. David who is so meticulous with his clothes and was all uppity about snow until apparently this very moment. Is he starting a snowball fight? Surely, he can’t expect to throw one at Patrick and not expect some retaliation. </p><p>His brain is doing some complex calculations at an alarming speed as he remains standing completely still, blinking stupidly. </p><p>That is, until Davis breaks out into a loud laughter. An absolute bend-at-the-waist knee slapping cackle. “Oh my god. You should see the look on your-” </p><p>Patrick dives for the pile of snow, forming the quickest ball before throwing it at David. Okay, he aimed for his shoulder because David is standing at an angle and his chest wasn’t available. But Patrick’s aim needs some work because half the snowball explodes into David’s hair</p><p>David blinks once, twice, and then all hell breaks loose. </p>
<hr/><p>They throw snow at each other and then throw each other into the snow. The chaos goes on for what feels like forever but realistically it’s about ten minutes. By the end, the two are panting and laying side by side on the snow covered grass. They stare up at the sky aimlessly as they catch their breaths. </p><p>“See what I mean about snow changing the colour of the world?” Patrick says, pointing to the sky. “On any other night the sky would be pitch black right now. See how it’s illuminated?” </p><p>David rolls over and looks down at Patrick fondly. “Not as illuminated as your face is right now.” </p><p>“Oh, is it? That would be an accurate indication of the happiness I’m feeling. I’m so glad you came outside.” </p><p>David leans forward and kisses him gently. “Me too. I’m glad you’re such a snow nerd. I wouldn’t have had this experience otherwise.” </p><p>Patrick wants to lean up and get more kisses, but David breaks their bubble.</p><p>“Now, I can actively feel the snow melting down my back. I need to go take two hot showers before I can carry on with my day.” </p><p>“Okay go!” He smacks his butt. “I’ll follow you in five.” </p><p>“See you inside. Just don’t be expecting any hot chocolate. You’ll only be disappointing yourself.”</p><p>“Looking forward to the hot chocolate, David. You’re the best.” Patrick kisses his forehead and they get up. </p><p>Patrick finishes shovelling the rest of the driveway in record timing and makes his way back. The shovels are stored, the driveway is salted, and his clothes are soaked. But the minute he enters the house, a very strong, very familiar smell wafts from the kitchen. David walks out with two mugs of hot chocolate. </p><p>He literally couldn’t ask for a better husband, not even if he tried. </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://pine67.tumblr.com">I'm over on tumblr as well, always up for a chat!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>